


Why Can't This Night Go On Forever

by lilsherlockian1975



Series: Journeys [4]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, HLV, Mild Smut, Romance, Song Lyrics, Toby (Tobias)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:02:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4334852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsherlockian1975/pseuds/lilsherlockian1975
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the night before the exile and Sherlock has someone he needs to see and even more importantly something he needs to ask...</p><p>'Yes, this was selfish, bordering on cruel. But he had denied himself Molly Hooper for eight years; stored every feeling and emotion about the woman in a brightly colored room in his mind palace simply marked: home.  And now this was all he would ever have. All she would ever have, of them. A single moment of selfishness was permitted when one was being sent to their death, right?'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Can't This Night Go On Forever

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my all time favorite Journey songs, so I kind of went for it on this time... reeeeally hope you like it. There is a lot of angst, but never fear... there is a follow up to make up for the pain and I will post it very soon.
> 
> Of course need to thank my beta, MizJoely. She's too good to me.
> 
> And I own nothing.

* * *

_What's in our hearts, there's never time to say._

_Need you tonight lover don't fade away._

* * *

 

Death didn't scare Sherlock Holmes. He had come to terms with his own mortality many years ago. He wasn't afraid to die. Yes, he was young, but he had lived a full life. Most people would say he had lived several. He had solved crimes, imprisoned murderers, shut down international crime syndicates. He had saved his best friend... twice, three times, oh he had lost count at this point. He had no regrets... save one. But he was about to rectify that.

He calmly approached the familiar door, and knocked. It opened revealing a freshly washed young woman, wearing her night clothes and looking more than a bit surprised.

"Hello Molly. May I come in?" he asked.

She didn't speak, just stepped back, allowing him entrance. He removed his coat and scarf, then turned to face her. She was still standing by the door, refusing to meet his eyes, and he knew why; she didn't want him to see her cry. But on this night, he was prepared for it. He'd almost welcome it.

Of course she wasn't expecting to see him tonight, or ever again, for that matter. Being aware of her importance to Sherlock, but ignorant of what his brother's last request would be, Mycroft had informed Molly about the events of the past several days, and the consequences as well. _She knew._

She finally found the resolve to raise her head. He looked deeply into her now-wet eyes. What he saw nearly crushed him; eight years of love, eight year's worth of pain.

And for him eight years of denial.

He could go to his death knowing he had done the right thing for his friend and his family. But he could not go without making sure that Molly Hooper knew that she was the one and only occupant of his heart.

He smiled. Somehow, that's all it took. _Of course._ She had always known him better than anyone else. She saw him when no one else could. Once he let his mask go... _she knew._ Letting it go was all it would have ever taken to have all he'd ever wanted. A gut wrenching sob broke out of her throat; he was across the room in seconds, arms circling her waist and pulling her into him.

She shook her head into his chest as she cried. Yes, this was selfish, bordering on cruel. But he had denied himself Molly Hooper for eight years; stored every feeling and emotion about the woman in a brightly colored room in his mind palace simply marked: _home._ And now this was all he would ever have. All she would ever have, of them. A single moment of selfishness was permitted when one was being sent to their death, right?

She pushed away from him and looked up. "How long," she whispered.

Whether she meant how long had he loved her or how long did they have, he really didn't know. But he chose to answer the latter, because telling Molly Hooper that he had loved her as long as he had known her, was too unbearably painful at that particular moment. He cupped her damp cheeks, his thumbs brushing away her tears. "I can stay the night," he said leaning down to kiss the soft skin beneath her ear.

"S'not fair," she cried.

"No, it's not. But we both know who shoulders the blame here." He kissed the tear tracks on her cheeks. "We only have a few hours Molly. I'm so sorry."

She shook her head. "Take me to bed."

* * *

  _Without love we won't survive._

_Run together we rule the night._

* * *

 

Sherlock had had sex before, he wasn't the virginal specimen everyone made him out to be. There was university and drugs. He had even had the Woman in an ill-fated attempt to rid himself of the desire to throw Molly Hooper down on the closest flat surface and take what he had always wanted. But he had never actually made love once in his life. As he watched the final piece of Molly's clothing fall from her body, he realised what an enormous difference there was between the two. He saw the love in her eyes and felt as if his chest might explode with the knowledge that she not only wanted him, but loved him so deeply in return.

She lay down on her bed and watched as he finished getting undressed. He was willing to admit, if only to himself, that he was somewhat nervous. He really had only one shot- well, he was hoping for several - but he still had to make this count.

As he removed his pants, he watched for Molly's reaction. She was pleased. _Good_. He joined her on the bed, lying down next to her. His brother said six months, and he was never wrong about these things. Sherlock wanted to memorize every inch of this woman. He'd need to revisit this to help him survive as long as possible and perhaps... _no, no point in hoping for the impossible_ , he thought as he pulled Molly in for a kiss. Their lips met and he suddenly felt more alive than he had since Christmas Day. The numbness that had taken over his limbs was gone. He was hyper-aware of everything: her lips, her scent, her skin... _her_. He ran his hand down her side, gripping her hip and pulling her close.

Molly took hold of his hair and tugged. For a moment Sherlock thought their first encounter would end then and there, but he managed to regain control and refocus his attention onto her and her body. She was so much more perfect than he had ever imagined. Her soft curves, always kept well hidden under ill-fitting clothing, seemed to call to him, so he gladly answered.

He wanted to go slowly, but his body must have had other plans, as did his Molly. She pushed him onto his back and crawled on top of him. She took his erection in hand and positioned herself over him.

"B-but I-I should..." he stuttered, motioning toward the point where they were about to be joined.

"I'm ready Sherlock, I've been ready for years," she said as she teased herself with his shaft, then lowered herself onto him. His mind stilled as he allowed himself to be entirely enveloped into Molly's tight, wet heat. At that moment he knew why he had denied himself this lovely woman above him. Had he allowed this to take place all those years ago, not only would have she been in constant danger, but he would have never accomplished anything. Ever the addict, he knew only his death would keep him from returning to this paradise once he had set foot on its hallowed shores.

She went slowly at first as he met her thrust for thrust. He tried to catalog every touch, every feeling, every sound, but it was all too much. When he felt the first tears falling on his chest, he took her face in his hands and kissed her with everything he had, everything he had denied her for years.

She wept even harder as she chased and found her end. It should have been off putting, and under any other circumstances, would have been. But he knew Molly was seeing a future that could never be. When he felt her come undone it drove him over the edge; there was a moment of utter relief and pure pleasure. Then he was crying as well. He pictured Molly curled up on his lap at 221B. He pictured her in a white veil standing in his parent's garden. He pictured her holding a small crying bundle. The door to her room had been broken down, and everything that was and could never be came flooding out en masse.

Molly lay on Sherlock's chest, both of them weeping, both of them knowing that in just a few short hours, this would all be over.

* * *

  _Lost in twilight, the memories._

_Precious moment, you and me._

* * *

 

He looked at the clock, 5.17am. He had less than forty-five minutes. He decided not to wake her; they had said everything there was to be said in the moments between their lovemaking, though the words weren't really necessary.

After the first time, they were both a bit more in control of themselves. Sherlock was able to finally show Molly that his mouth was good for something other than insults and demands. As he lay next to her in the early morning hours reviewing their activities, he realised he needed to keep himself in check, he didn't have time to take her again before he had to leave.

 _Leave_. He sighed. He thought back to the words they had spoken before their last encounter.

_Molly lay on her back with Sherlock's head on her chest. She was absently carding her fingers through his hair as he traced the curves of her abdomen._

_"I have no right to ask anything more of you Molly. But I have one last request, as it were." He didn't stop his hand, didn't look up._

_Molly did, however, her fingers stilled. "What is it, Sherlock?" her voice barely above a whisper._

_He paused, gathering courage he didn't think he possessed at the moment. "I, ah..." He swallowed. "I need you to move on. I need to know that you won't be alone- won't be lonely. I can't bear the thought of that." He could tell she was holding her breath. "I can do this... go to my..." He stopped, he couldn't say it, not to her. "I know that what I did seems wrong, but I did it for the right reasons, Molly. So I can take my punishment knowing that John and Mary will be safe; their child will be safe. But please, for me, if nothing else..." He looked up at her, tears falling down into her ears. "I'm so sorry, but I need this, you need to move on." He tried to smiled, though it was forced and didn't quite reach his eyes. "If anyone in this world deserves happiness, it's you Molly Hooper."_

_"Okay," she said in an unsteady whisper._

_Sherlock kissed her lips sweetly. "Someone like Meet Dagger, but smarter," He rolled his eyes. "Obviously. Love him. Have children. Be happy. But please don't forget me."_

_She shook her head. "How am I supposed to love anyone after you?"_

_"Oh," he said with a smirk. "You won't love him as much as me, of course."_

_Molly laughed and cried at the same time. "You are such an ass."_

_"Yes, I know," he said with a laugh._

_She pulled him down for another kiss. When the kiss ended they stared at each other for several moments. "I don't want anyone else, Sherlock."_

_"You must promise me, I can't die thinking of you alone, Molly. Please?"_

_More tears collected in her hair and ears. "Fine." She looked away. "I promise, I'll find someone to love, but he won't..."_

_"I know." He kissed her cheeks and wiped away her tears. "Thank you, you have no idea how much this means to me."_

_She turned back to him. "One more time, please?"_

_Sherlock grinned. "Do you even have to ask?"_

After filing the memory in Molly's room, Sherlock got up quietly and got dressed. He walked into the kitchen and placed an envelope on the table. He started to walk away, but paused. Looking around he finally found what he needed and went back to table, broke the seal on the envelope and pulled out the letter. He sat down and frantically started to write.

Two minutes later he was finished and he had replaced everything. Standing and taking one more look around, knowing this would be the last time he would see this tiny flat, he bent down and scratched Toby behind the ears. "Take care of her, Tobias," he said before he picked up his coat and walked out, without looking back.

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, there is a follow up. It should be up tomorrow - it is finished and ready to go! Let me know what you think!


End file.
